


Firm

by elysiumwaits



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Evil doppelganger Billy Hargrove, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Tentacle Sex, This is really more implied smut than actual smut, Touch-Starved, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Being trapped in the Upside-Down with himself isn't exactly Billy's idea of a good time. The fact that his weird, evil double has tentacles doesn't make anything better.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Billy Hargrove, Billy Hargrove/Other(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Firm

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought "why not?" so here you go.
> 
> I wrote this in thirty minutes and accidentally skipped therapy because of it, oops.

"You gotta admit, this is better than staring at the walls." 

A tentacle slithers up Billy's body, caresses him like a lover would. At the beginning, days or weeks or months ago when he got here, he'd recoiled from the touch. He's learned to tolerate, even _like,_ the silky skin moving against his, the firm muscle underneath holding him in place. After blood and monsters and so many days (or weeks or months) looking at the horrific mirror-image of Hawkins, he'll take what comfort he can get. The pleasure's just a bonus, a way to short out his brain long enough he can forget where he is. Even just for a moment.

Besides, it's not like he ever really had a choice. 

"Nothing to say?" A couple of fingers under his chin, and Billy's looking up at his own horrific mirror-image. Bright blue eyes, charming smile, and tentacles coiling out of the monster's back and shoulders. "Cat got your tongue, Hargrove?"

And normally Billy _would_ have something to say. He would have a comeback or an insult ready to go for the monster wearing his own face. Right now, though, one of not-Billy's tentacles is heavy on his tongue, thrusting gently into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. He'd pull away to say what he wants if he could, but there's another tentacle wrapped around his neck that likes to squeeze in warning. So Billy just settles for glaring at not-him.

The thing's smile turns sharp. Billy knows that smile, has worn it on his own face, likens it to a shark smelling blood in the water. He's learned so much about himself since he got here days (or weeks or months) ago. There's no other warning before the tentacle in his mouth goes _harsh_ , thrusts hard and slithers its way down past Billy's gag reflex. It makes him choke, eyes watering as he instinctively tries to pull away. The tentacles around him hold him steady, keep him in place. There's no escape from this, not from himself and not from the Upside-Down.

The tentacle around his neck tightens suddenly. He knows he's got tears on his face, can't help the way his eyes and mouth try to widen in a bid for air. Through it all, not-Billy just watches with mild interest, like he could take or leave the scene in front of him. After a moment where Billy's vision starts going dark, just as the fight starts to leave him, the tentacle around Billy's throat loosens, and the one in his mouth pulls away completely. It leaves him hanging there, suspended by the firm grasp of the tentacles on his body, gasping for air and messy from the tentacles' secretions.

He doesn't notice not-Billy stepping closer until there's a hand on his cheek, a thumb on his cheekbone. "If you're good for me," not-Billy says, "if you're my good little bitch, and you let me take care of you the way I want to, I'll hold you."

Billy squeezes his eyes shut and doesn't lift his head. "Fuck you." His voice sounds wrecked. It always does these days (or weeks or months). "I don't need... Don't you fucking _coddle_ me, freak."

The hand leaves his face. Immediately, Billy wants it back. He knows it's not human, he knows it's attached to a monster with tentacles that like to violate him and wring the pleasure from his body until he's nothing more than an exposed nerve. But it _feels_ human, it feels warm and alive and _real_ , and sometimes Billy needs that. He craves it, just the feeling of someone's skin pressed to his. 

"If that's what you want."

He just... god. If he's weak here, there's no one but himself to see, right? "No, wait. I'll-" Billy swallows, makes himself look up at not-him. He just wants a little comfort, just a little _warmth_ in this frigid hell. "I'll be good."

That sharp smile again. This time it's followed by the hand, pressed to his cheek again, gliding down to rub at his neck where the tentacle loosens and makes room. "You always are."


End file.
